


by yourself, you have to cry yourself

by klaviergavout



Series: Prompt Bingo! [2]
Category: Starlight Express - Phillips/Stilgoe/Webber
Genre: Angst, Families of Choice, Found Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, also i love dustin so much where is the dustin content WHERE IS IT, it wouldnt be one of my stex fics without cb pining over gb and electra, poppa is everyone's dad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:34:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23809213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/klaviergavout/pseuds/klaviergavout
Summary: CB is tired of being avoided after the championship, so he simply disappears from everyone's lives - well, tries to. Dustin intervenes.
Series: Prompt Bingo! [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1704583
Comments: 6
Kudos: 28





	by yourself, you have to cry yourself

**Author's Note:**

> I'm doing a prompt bingo card to try and encourage myself to write more often and explore a range of different fandoms! The prompt for this fic was 'Found Families'.
> 
> Started this one a couple years ago before the Bochum changes, so it's the Red Caboose design.

The events of the championship races had changed a lot of lives at the Apollo Victoria. Rusty and Pearl had achieved their dreams, finding true victory in each other; Greaseball had sustained several injuries, but had reconciled with Dinah in the process; Electra had left after throwing an incredible tantrum, his Components trailing faithfully behind him; but the freight train remained just the same, gaining only a small sense of pride in their hearts to think that Dustin - shy, clumsy, underestimated Dustin - had helped Rusty win. 

The freight trucks were perhaps the least affected of everyone involved. That is, except for CB, of course.

Despite what CB's crashes seemed like from the outside - terrible, chaotic accidents - they were always controlled down to the finest detail. This one had been different. Him, Greaseball and Electra had collided spectacularly, ruining themselves (and their pride) beyond repair. He'd always been hurt, but never dented. He'd always survived, but never been caught.

The human workers had suspended him following the incident, of course. Repairing him after such a debilitating crash was not going to be an instant procedure. But as much as his physical status could be fixed in time, his social status amongst the rolling stock had taken an even harsher blow; the entire trainyard knew about how he'd gotten Rusty disqualified from the race they'd partnered in, and worse still, they knew about how CB had treated him afterwards. The victorious steam engine had warned the others of his violent behaviour that day, and as a result, everyone - Greaseball included - started to avoid him like the plague.

Weeks passed and still no one would approach him, so CB made his home in an old, derelict shed, leaving only to get essentials. He continues to do so now. Without any friends to talk to, he spends most of his time throwing coal at the wall and regretting everything he's ever done. He regrets being made in the first place.

CB would never admit it out loud, but he's _lonely._ He never thought he needed anyone else but himself, but just thinking about the look of disgust Greaseball had shot his way after the crash - it made his whole heart ache.

"CB?" asks a voice from outside the shed's entrance, and suddenly CB flinches; he hasn't heard someone else's voice in at least three days. Or was it four? Needless to say, he knows this voice. He digs his sharp nails hard into the coal in his hands. 

"Leave me alone, Dustin." 

Dustin's always been irritatingly persistent - one of the reasons CB never bothered to befriend him in the first place - and instead of leaving him alone, he sits down with a loud bump on the ground, dust flying everywhere from the force of it and making the two of them cough.

"I said -- _cough_ \-- leave me -- _cough_ \-- alone." 

"Are you okay? You don't look okay," says Dustin, answering his own question.

CB shoots him a nasty glare. "I'm fine."

"Really?" 

"Yes."

"Why are you in 'ere then, on your own?"  
  
CB takes a deep, shuddering breath to steady his anger, fragments of broken coal dropping to the floor from between his fingers. "You don't want to know."

"'Course I do," replies Dustin, so matter-of-factly that it ticks CB off. "I'm your friend."

"No, you're not!" All at once CB's anger surfaces. He shoves Dustin roughly in the pit of his stomach, throwing the remaining bits of coal at him. "Leave me alone!"

Dustin trembles, eyes scrunched shut and arms wrapped tightly around himself, but he doesn't move from his spot. "I won't go away 'till you tell me what's going on. Everyone thought you left with Electra," Dustin adds, a lot quieter. "We missed you."

CB decides to ignore that last part. 

"I'll tell you what's going on," he hisses, voice wobbling, and when Dustin looks at him again there are bitter tears in his eyes. "I'm broken and everybody hates me."

"That's not true--"

"It is! You know it is!" 

"I don't 'ate you. Never did."

CB scoffs, shaking his head. "You're a fool, then. I'm not as good as you think I am."

"'Course you are! You've always 'elped us." Dustin reaches out to touch CB's shoulder, but the caboose smacks him away well before he can reach it. "Even when-- even when you 'urt Rusty, you wanted to 'elp Greaseball." 

"Did I? Because the last time I checked, he was doing everything he could to stay away from me." 

Dustin moves to touch CB's shoulder again, and this time, the caboose doesn't stop him.

"Sometimes, friends don't stick with you when you need 'em. But we're family. Me, you, Flat-Top, the Rockies -- we're family, and no matter what you do, we'll always be there for ya."

CB gives Dustin a long, hard stare. 

"You're Rusty's friend, though. You know what I did. Aren't you at least mad at me for that?"

 _Yes._ Dustin stops fast, afraid to lie but much more afraid to tell the truth. He decides on a bit of both. "It made me sad to 'ear what you did, yeah, but everyone makes mistakes."

"This was more than just a mistake, Dustin."

"Why d'you like Greaseball and Electra, then? They did bad things too."

This makes CB pause. Was this how it looked to everyone else? In his mind, Greaseball and Electra had never done bad things, just planned them. He'd always been the perpetrator, the criminal in disguise, because engines like them - with power and money and romance and fame - couldn't risk getting blood on their hands, so to speak.

Truthfully, CB enjoyed helping them win. They were important people; won races like it was nothing, played games with people's feelings all the time. CB was always stuck at the back. He thrived on their success, not his own. But the day he decided to play with their feelings was the day he screwed himself over. 

"I like them because they're worth more than I'll ever be." 

"See, that's not true," says Dustin, shaking his head. "You're worth a lot to us."

"How?" he cries, indignant. "I'm _useless!_ I don't matter to _anybody!_ And the one time I thought I did, Electra ran away and left me behind! As for Greaseball--"

"CB," Dustin says, soft but firm - the most serious CB's ever seen him. "Those two don't matter anymore. Sure, you made some people mad. Some people might not wanna be around you anymore. But we still care!"

"Who's _we_ _?"_

Dustin, usually so gentle and pliant, looks at CB with what is probably the first time he's ever experienced frustration on his face. It's so unlike him that CB can't help but laugh, smiling wide in his mirth. Dustin laughs too, shy and embarrassed; anger really doesn't suit him.

That sets off five peals of laughter from behind the shed door, all of which he recognises.

CB stops laughing immediately. His head snaps up towards the noise so quick that Dustin recoils, suddenly staring down at the ground. The caboose stabs a finger towards the entrance, glaring at the big hopper with murder in his eyes. 

"Why are they here?" It's a demand to know rather than a question.

"Ah, well, you see," Dustin stutters, wringing his hands, "the others were just-- they wanted to-- I told 'em that-- "

Luckily for Dustin, the shed door opens, and in come the rest of the freight train with the most awkward looks on their faces. CB gives them all a blank stare. He should have expected Flat-Top, really; when Dustin can't get his words out, the unfiltered brick truck is always the first to butt in. The Rockies aren't that surprising either - being as easily bored as they are, the trio are always looking for something to do. But Poppa? He can't even bear to look the old steamer in the eyes.

"I would never have told you those things if I'd known they were here," CB hisses under his breath. Dustin looks like he's about to cry. _Good! Serves him right,_ the caboose thinks, _for breaking my trust._ But he really shouldn't have told Dustin anything in the first place. Trust no one, that's the creed he'd always lived by, until Greaseball and Electra came into his life and ruined everything--

"CB," breathes Poppa, and he snaps out of his thoughts to see the old steam train knelt before him, concern written all over his face. "Have you been here on your own all this time?”

Of course he has. Nobody wants him around. But that's okay; it's nothing new.

"That's not true," says Poppa, his response almost immediate. "It's not okay." 

Oh, Starlight. He just said that out loud, didn't he?

Rather than risk sharing any more self-deprecation with Poppa, CB just sits there and stares him down. It's the only thing he knows how to do anymore. But the longer he looks into the tired, worn eyes of the steam engine in front of him, the more he longs to drop this unbothered façade and let it all out. Why? He doesn't know. But there's a truth in Poppa's eyes that makes him feel vulnerable, and it scares him to no end.

"Come here," the old steamer says at last. That throws CB into a panic. _Don't touch me, don't touch me, don't touch me._ He wants to run but at this point he's caged in by four different engines, all of which are taller and stronger than he is. Is this how Rusty's always felt, surrounded by Greaseball's henchmen? Because he feels absolutely sick to have no control over the situation. It's like he's crashing inside his head, over and over. He doesn't want their sympathy. He doesn't want them to care about him. He doesn't want anything. He doesn't -- 

CB feels Poppa's arms wrap around him, warm and strong --

and he wants, wants, _wants._

He's safe, loved for the very first time; it feels like he's been suffocating all his life and only just now has he learnt to breathe. He grasps on tight to the steam engine and begins to cry.

"Oh, CB," Poppa murmurs into his shoulder, sounding just as upset to see him like this. CB cries harder, sobs racking his dented chest. "Oh, my boy."

He hears a loud sniffle from nearby, and another person joins the hug. _Dustin_. After that, it's not long before the rest of the rolling stock join in - three hoppers add onto the hug pile in perfect unison, and then one last (rather hesitant) brick truck follows straight after. They all sit there for a long, long while, basking in each other's warmth, comforting the small caboose until he runs out of tears to cry.

"I don't want to be alone anymore," CB chokes out, muffled by the rest of the group hug, and the freight all move back to give him some space.

"You don't have to be," Poppa reassures him. "You never did."

 _That's ridiculous,_ CB thinks at once. Everyone had avoided him, that's why he hid away in the first place. But then CB recalls Poppa offering to convert Greaseball to steam; a similar offer was made to him and Electra, too. Now that he thought about it, maybe Rusty had called out to him once or twice, trying to make amends, but he'd run away every time. Maybe Dinah had searched the whole railyard looking for him, wanting to know if he was alright, but he'd hidden behind a coal stack before she could spot him. Maybe even Greaseball had looked his way one night, but CB had shut his eyes fast, refusing to fall for the diesel's bait when he knew the engine would never truly forgive him.

They'd avoided him at first, and for good reason too. But to isolate himself for so long... CB knows now that he pushed his friends away, not the other way around. 

"Come back to us," pleads Dustin, tugging on his arm, and he snaps back to reality. "Please."

"I-I'm not sure I should." CB looks around at everyone's smiling faces. He's never been a part of their happiness, not really. It was always fake, every time. "I don't deserve you. I'm not worth it."

Poppa shakes his head. "No, CB. You are worth it, to me." His words make CB smile, properly smile, for the first time in weeks.

"And me," adds Dustin eagerly. 

"And us," chorus the Rockies. They haven't said a single thing to him since they arrived, but CB appreciates the sentiment.

"Me too, I guess," mumbles Flat-Top, easily embarrassed. 

"Guess that settles it, then," the old steamer says, a kind grin on his face. "Welcome home."

The events of the championship races had changed a lot of lives at the Apollo Victoria. CB never thought his would turn out for the better.


End file.
